


Quieting Voices, Louder Pain

by CapriciousVanity



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Blood and Gore, Gen, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-20
Updated: 2014-12-20
Packaged: 2018-03-02 09:49:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2808101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CapriciousVanity/pseuds/CapriciousVanity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cole gets himself badly wounded. Solas and Iron Bull have to take care of him until a surgeon arrives. Varric catches word and follows the surgeon to the Storm Coast camp make sure Cole will be alright.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Quieting Voices, Louder Pain

His breath was erratic, jumping and jolting in his lungs and stomach. He swallowed back blood only to cough up more along the wet, slippery rocks of Storm Coast. Solas was first to notice and rushed to his side with a burst of magical help. Cole had slipped earlier, landing on the wound at his side. He made a groan, small, high pitched noises leaving his throat. Iron Bull approached the two of them.

“He’s badly wounded… It’s very deep.”

“That doesn’t look like something a person should live through.”

“He’s a spirit. Albeit a spirit in human form, but he should live.”

“His guts are about to spill all over the place.”

“His body is damaged, but not what he is made of… It is difficult to destroy a spirit completely. Because he is not obliterated, he still has a chance to heal.”

“Good.”

“We should get him away from all this salt. I’m sure it’s burning him.”

“Think we’re close enough to camp? I can carry him.”

Cole’s bloody hand grasped Solas’ sleeve. The elf-mage removed the boy’s hat and stroked his cheek for comfort.

“It will cause him great pain, but yes, we should do that. I’ll be sure to send word out for a surgeon.”

“You can’t just heal him with magic?”

“No.”

Bull cursed before strapping his maul to his back. He leaned down and lifted Cole to carry. He made an agonizing cry that scared the nearby birds away. He was shaking in Bull’s arms. The Qunari tried to cradle him and keep his head up. Solas touched the spirit’s head as the two stepped over corpses to their camp up the hill. Solas took every bit of fur and blanket he could find to make a nest for Cole to be set down. Iron Bull knelt down to gently place Cole on the furs.

The spirit’s long and thin fingers, trembling and coated in blotches of dried blood, reached out for Solas who was grinding together roots in a stone mortar. Iron Bull, feeling somewhat useless, asked the elf if he could do anything. He _wasn’t great at the moral support stuff_ , he said.

Solas instructed him to try and peel apart Cole’s clothes.

“Hey,” Bull said to catch Cole’s attention. His eyes were glossy and his lips were trembling.

“Hey… I have to take off your shirts. That wound’s pretty deep. Thread and dirt and other shit in there can make for a bad, really painful infection, human or not.”

Cole managed another whine but laid his head back. It was hard for him to resist touching the gash.

Iron Bull took a knife to cut away at Cole’s stained clothes.

“It hurts,” he managed to whimper in a strained voice.

“It hurts so much.”

Solas brought an armful of herbs and continued to crush them together by Cole’s side.

“Shhh… We’ll numb the pain for you.”

“I-I… I can’t... I can’t hear them….”

“Hear what?” Bull asked, trying to peel away small threads stuck in incarnadine blotches.

Cole huffed, trying to catch his breath to keep talking.

“P-pain… Others’ pain…”

“Your own pain is drowning out the voices of others. You’ll have to ignore them until we’ve gotten you patched up.”

Solas brought a cloth to Cole’s mouth, dabbing the blood and wiping his slightly bucked teeth.

Cole squeezed his eyes shut to hold back a sob.

“Warm water?”

“It’s already heated.” Solas gestured to the other side of Bull.

The Qunari took a cloth and made sure to soak it well before trying to clean the blood from Cole’s gash. The boy squirmed and arched.

“No, Cole, you have to sit still. You could hurt yourself further.”

Solas placed a gentle hand on Cole’s chest.

“R-ripping in my gut, wringing red-hot, _wrenching_ inside…”

“Cole, I’m going to ask you not to speak. Your breathing is erratic as is. Adding talking to your lungs will do more damage than good.”

“It’s alright, Cole. You’re in good hands.”

Cole tried to hold back his sobs as Solas smeared a paste across his torn skin. He and Iron Bull had switched places, Bull holding Cole’s head as Solas tried his best to anoint the raw gash.

“He’s internally wounded as well…” Solas murmured.

“Shit… Is there anything you can do?”

“I can try to heal him slowly with magic, but without a proper surgeon, it could take months.”

“You don’t have any surgical skills in that skull of yours? Can’t you learn that shit from the Fade?”

“ _Sigh_ , it isn’t that simple. I know a few tricks, yes, but do you really want to experiment on our friend?”

“Dunno. Do you really want to sit here _assuming_ the surgeon can get here in decent time?”

Cole’s weak fingers tapped Solas, as if asking permission to speak. Both he and Iron Bull gave the spirit their attention.

“A-am I going to die…?”

“No,” they said in unison.

Iron Bull looked to Solas worriedly.

“No. Like I said before, you can’t actually die, not like this. You’ll become damaged and twisted if you can’t hear the voices of others’ pains. Denying your nature will hurt you and we may possibly have to slay you ourselves if that happens.”

“What? That can actually happen?”

“Yes, Iron Bull.”

“If he can’t die by physical-whatever means, than why _not_ put your surgical skill to use?”

“Because my knowledge is limited and I could make it worse.”

“We’re not going to get anywhere arguing.”

“Then stop arguing.”

Bull shook his head, mindful of his horns in the tent.

“Sew him up, heal him with magic, shove more of that disgusting paste into his gut, but whatever you do, do it now.”

Solas peered at Cole’s face. He looked distant, mind muddled with malady. Solas lifted the spirit’s chin to look him in the eye. Cole's chest convulsed as he tried to swallow.

“This will sting...” he warned.

He had his hands cleaned of old blood and rubbed more ointment into the gash. Cole had to be held down by Iron Bull.

With a bit of magic, he was able to help Cole’s internal tissue scar instead of bleed out. It was the most he knew how to do, but took many agonizing hours. The surgeon finally arrived, shooing both Bull and Solas out of the tent. Varric had come with her down from Skyhold.

“Where is he? How’s the kid holding up?”

He looked frantically between Bull and Solas.

“Don’t give me that look, chuckles…”

Varric’s voice sounded heartbroken as he looked to Solas.

“He can’t die like this,” he assured.

“Thank the Maker…”

“But he _is_ in horrible pain. He can’t hear the pain of others, his own is too great and is drowning out everything his very nature was built for.”

“Aw, _shit._ How did this even happen? Weren’t you two watching him?”

“Hey, dwarf, we were all doing our part. That spirit can hold his own out there, and you know it. He isn’t a baby.”

Varric shook his head, hand touching his forehead.

“No, you’re right, you’re right… Sorry, I just…”

A thin and pale hand on his shoulder.

“No, Varric. You have every right to be worried and upset. He’ll need time to heal. I’m sure once the surgeon is finished, he’ll be glad to see you.”

Varric’s brow furrowed as he looked up to the taller elf. Slowly, he muttered, “…Thanks.”

It was well into the night and possibly morning before Cole’s whining and howling stopped. The surgeon emerged with a faint, tired old smile.

Varric felt the relief hit him harder than a trebuchet.

Solas and Bull let him in the tent alone with Cole, who was groggy and unsure of where he was.

“Hey, kid.”

“Varric…? I didn’t know… Dwarves could have glowing hair.” Cole’s hand reached out to the air beside Varric’s head, touching some conjured up figment. Varric laughed before grabbing the young man’s paler-than-usual hand. He pushed it to Cole’s bare chest.

“You’re going to be fine, you know. You scared the shit out of me. And I didn’t even get to see how bad shape you were in. Stitches, huh… Must’ve been deep.” Varric spoke softer in afterthought.

“It was… Like fire licking at your skin from a far away sun flare.”

“I… Okay, kid. Whatever you say…”

“Or like the scalding of a pot boiling over in a flame pit.”

“Yeah… Pain can feel like all kinds of crazy things.”

“Will you stay…? The angry hart is making me nervous.”

“Angry heart?”

“Antlers twisting, eyes glowing, breath seen but it’s hot, not cold…”

“I’m pretty sure that’s the medicine.”

“The hart is the medicine?”

“No, I mean the medicine is making you see some crazy bullshit. But yeah. I can stay.”

“Good. It frightens me when it turns its head like that.”

Varric’s calloused hands smoothed back Cole’s bangs, revealing his face completely. He was sweaty and clammy, but Varric was just glad he was alive.

**Author's Note:**

> Needed to warm up a bit more with description. Ended up being 90% dialogue again but that's alright.  
> First meme fill in almost a year. My third ever, I think? I should do fills more often.  
> http://dragonage-kink.livejournal.com/10859.html?thread=45702251#t45702251


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